| Why did I not die at birth?
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| Expire as I came from the womb?
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| Why were there knees to receive me?
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| Or breasts to feed me?
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| Why was I not like babies
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| Who never saw the light?
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| Who lie with kings and counsellors
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| Who rebuild ruins for themselves
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| And where rest
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| Those whose strength is spent
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| Where small and great are alike
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| And the slave is free of his master
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| Oh watcher of men
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| Do you have eyes of flesh?
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| Is your vision like man?
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| Are your years the years of man?
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| You know that I’m not guilty
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| And that none can deliver from your hand
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| Also you know that you have deeply wronged me, oh
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| And you have fenced me in
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| You made it so nobody knows me
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| And I’m an outsider to them
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| When I accused you, you wouldn’t speak
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| I said you tore up my hope like a tree
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| But I spoke without understanding
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| Of things beyond me which I did not know
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| And now I’ve heard you with my ears
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| And I’ve seen you with my eyes
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| Therefore I recant and relent
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| Being but dust and ashes |